Voyage into the Void
by GinkoToothed
Summary: The last android and crew member of the Prometheus keep themselves entertained (for the android) and sane (for the human), as unanswered questions of the Engineers, the company, the mission, themselves, persist. Shaw/David8; could be romantic.
1. Launch

**Disclaimer:** Prometheus belongs to its respected creators; Space Jockey/Engineers belong to H.R. Giger. I have no intentions of making any profits off this fan-based work.

**A/N'S:**_ I'm keeping my reasoning short - I couldn't hold all these feels and unanswered questions and disappoints for this movie, I had to resolve it through a scenario where David and Shaw kept each other entertained with a slew of unanswered questions and observations as they traveled to the Engineers' homeland. Who else can you bounce off of while you're stuck in the wasteland of the universe?_

* * *

**I: LAUNCH  
**

_"We live as we dream - alone." _- Joseph Conrad**  
**

* * *

Getting a decapitated, yet still functioning, android to assist in the start-up of an alien ship turned out to be more difficult than it had played out in her mind. While he helped with the initial start-up and getting the systems online and active, the manual work was up to her. Even as he watched across from her, his cranium resting atop of a bio-mechanical module, and guided her step-by-step on how to set up the coordinates, which gelatinous key to push, and how to read the holographic map, Shaw fumbled and was forced to start over twice. Thankfully, David's patience was endless and unyielding.

With the last stroke of the keys, the Engineer ship throbbed, then hummed to life. With no windows in the pilot chamber, only a periscope to see through, to give her a 180° view, her flying was limited; having absolutely no experience in flying a ship only exacerbated the dilemma. With his - no,_ its_, she reminded herself - face was bathed in a blue glow from the module, masked in an unsettling collective calm, David continued to give her directions on how to steer, his eyes never leaving her's.

Shaw felt the powerful tug of gravity as the ship rose and ascended up into the higher atmospheres. She tilted the ship here and there with the foreign, yet highly sensitive instruments. All while she was clutching her still-raw, freshly-stitched abdominal incision.

The world through her scope darkened, the sky vanishing and clouds plummeting, as they left the damned planet behind.

* * *

"David."

"Yes, Doctor Shaw?"

"Were any of your investigations able to unearth up any clues, any hints... to see if we weren't the only species the Engineers were hostile towards?"

A pause. "No, I'm afraid I could not." While his voice was unreadable due to the damaged voice box's digital grizzle and static, she could make out a little hint of... disappointment? Of not finding an answer?

Shaw rustled through one of two duffel bags in frustrated silence. They were filled to the brim with necessities, medical supplies and tools she was able to scavenge from Vickers' lavish life-boat. She couldn't remember which bag where she stuffed...

"Then," she started, after she finally fished out the metal container, almost measuring three feet long, "why the excessive stockpiling of biological weapons? They would have only needed a dozen of those cylinders to wipe us out." She hauled the toolbox to the android: his head leaned on the arm of a star-map observation throne, while his body sat before him, its back propped against the edge of the seat.

"It is plausible these beings unleash malice not _just_ towards _us_... but, possibly towards one another."

With the flick of the clasp, the cantilever trays popped open, with more miniature trays on the sides unfurling. Strange apparatuses and devices lay before her. Her brows furrowed, then flicked her eyes back to him. "Much like how... some mobs, clans or nations of humans wage conflict against another?"

"Religious fundamentalism. Political sabotage. Genocide. After all, aren't you built from their very image?" David quipped.

True. More than just physical traits were passed down from creator to the creation...

Shaw pulled out a high-tech soldering iron, studying it. It was nothing like the ones she had seen back on Earth. "David, what tools will I need for this operation?"

The android motioned with his eyes. "You will need that soldering iron in your hand, the pair of tweezers, clamps, wire snips and pliers at the very bottom, plus those extra bundles of fiberwires and cords." She fished out what was needed.

"Wait." He interjected. Her head snapped up. "Please get the lubricant as well."

"Is it in cans or vials?"

"A metal vial."

Shaw returned with her arms full. Setting them aside in a neat line, she then turned to David's body, placed it down on the ancient floor. His head laid, face-up, before his ghastly wound.

"What do I need to do first?" Her voice wavered, unsure if this amateur mechanic job would help or hurt.

"Press the button on the side, an applicator should come out." With a press, a small shield slid and out popped a butter knife-life applicator with a smooth, but finely-porous end. That in hand, Shaw unscrewed the long, metal vial's cap.

"Dip it into the vial, and apply the oil onto the wires."

"The fiber-optic wires or the thick chords?"

"Fiber-optic. Please apply it to both my neck and the wound site."

She did as requested; once she slathered the milk-like lubricant onto the fiber filaments, the wire ends blinked once, then glowed brightly to life.

"Now... bring the clamps, pliers, and soldering iron," David continued. She began stabilizing the thicker 'spinal' cords, embedded with marble-like orbs (or were they cysts?), holding a few in place with the clamps and pliers. After giving a generous smothering of solder wick, Shaw began the delicate, laborious task of re-connecting his cervical connections.

At one point, sparks flew due to the naked end of an active wire grazing the metal tips of the pliers, causing David to erupt in a series of violent facial tics.

"David! Are you alright?" Shaw held his skull in place as the tics subsided.

"It is nothing. Please continue the operation." He replied, voice rushed but not breathy nor panicky, blinking a few times to get his eyes to stop rolling.

"Reconnecting is far from a ... _painless_ process, is it not?" She said, slightly exasperated, and irritated, at his denial.

"The trick, Doctor Shaw, is not minding that it hurts."

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED**

_Critique and suggestions welcomed. This will be tidied up here and there in the coming days._**  
**


	2. Puzzle Pieces

**A/N's 1:** _Apologies for the late update, I procrastinated/got busy with other art projects, turned into a sad blob, then suffered from a power outage caused by the massive storm that effected the majority of the Midwest. Additionally, I'm REALLY surprised to hear that the readers liked the details of the ship start-up and how to fix an android! That charms me! :}_

**A/N's 2:**_ I spent most of today editing it but some might have slipped from my review, so apologies in advance if there are spelling/grammatical errors anywhere. Once again, this will be tidied up during the week. __Comments and critiques are more than welcome! Let me know at anytime if I'm straying from keeping everyone in-character. _  


* * *

**II: PUZZLE PIECES**

* * *

Shaw gently strummed the harp-like wires, kept together by sturdy electrical tape that supported his cervical region, acting as synthetic tendons and muscle fiber. They seemed to be holding up. Almost an hour ago they were split, frayed and useless. With some of lubricant, careful positioning and a roll of electrical tape, the fiber-optical wires were able to slowly mend themselves.

His system's ability to send and receive electrical impulses were nowhere near as strong as pre-injury levels; he was able to 'breathe' albeit he was short of breath. The titanium alloy vertebrae were popped back into place; his esophageal reflexes were normal and could swallow upon command. However, Shaw could not determine exactly how limited his ability to walk, move, or execute commands that required fine-motor skills, until he tried.

"It looks like we're almost done," She huffed, sweeping back her sweat-matted hair with a cramped, strained hand. "David, are you able to move anything?"

David was affirmative he could not move a digit nor limb for quite some time, but he could not disobey her order. What harm is there in trying?

Shaw watched with rapt attention: while she couldn't see under his suit whether he was straining to move, as his arms did give a jitter, a twitch or two, and could see his hands slightly flex.

She cracked a tired smile. "That's a good start." She sighed. David felt a warm buzz at her approval.

"All that is left to repair is your voice-box... what will I need to fix this?"

"Keep everything you already have on hand. Please bring the crimpers, fuse pullers, blade fuses, the small insulated screwdriver, nano-splices and cable tie." She brought the requested items, then gently pushed up the still tattered and torn artificial skin, mushrooming out of his zipped-down suit, which had stopped at his shoulders.

"What does the voice-box look like?"

"Ovaloid, slightly wishbone in shape." The android informed. With gentle fingers she pried a few cords aside and found it. It was very much like a human larynx and appeared to be intact, minus the slew of dangling, severed ribbon-like wires on the bottom.

"It doesn't appear to be damaged," Shaw remarked.

"Please look inside to be certain." David recommended. She grabbed a screwdriver with the tiniest of heads to unseal the larynx container. Miniature fluttering pumps and eyelash-thin wires nestled within. Every mechanical bit as so finely detailed and delicate. Yet, it was still a simple audio device.

If she were to just tear it out, he would be just a voiceless a doll.

As tempted as she was, she needed his guidance to reach her goal, and his conversations to keep her mind from going astray... and maybe squeeze some answers about Weyland and his company.

"Doctor Shaw?" A calm voice broke her train of thought, snapping back to the present.

"Y-Yes?"

"Lost in a daydream?" He asked, almost innocently. Almost.

She tensed; she did not enjoy being read like an opened book. "No, I was thinking about how I would go about fixing your larynx cords."

"Your face says otherwise: your pupils were dilated, along with minimal eye movement and decreased breathing rate." David corrected.

Shaw clenched her teeth as she banished the urge to short circuit him. "The internal structures looks perfectly fine." She growled.

"Splendid."

After sealing the larynx capsule shut once more, Shaw spliced the damaged ends and reconnected them with the replacements. Another thirty minutes passed. "David, recite the alphabet." She ordered.

"A, B, C, D, E, F..."

"Good," Shaw concluded, her spirits lifted a little. "But, your voice still sounds somewhat fuzzy."

"As long as I am fluent and coherent, I am content." The android watched in the corner of his eyes as she began returning the tools and replacement parts away. She scooted over with something else in hand.

"What do you have there?" His curiosity was immediately apparent.

"An extra attachable soldering pick and..." Shaw held the spool of wire by the small electric lantern. "Micro-tubing. It's the only materials there are to use as a substitute stitch kit. But we seem to have a problem..."

"And that is?"

"I don't have anything to make a hole in the soldering pick. I need an eye in order to pass the tubing through."

"I might be able to solve that."

Shaw sat back on her knees. "And how will do you it?"

"My teeth are strong enough to puncture it."

She looked befuddled. "Are you sure they won't break?"

"I can assure you they will not."

She leaned forward to hold his head still as she placed the pinky-width soldering pick into his mouth.

"A little to my left."

"Left, where?"

"Incisors."

Lined up with his teeth, David bit down and moved his jaw a smidge here, a smidge there, until a tiny crack echoed. She took a look at his handiwork: a small puncture the width of a staple. Not bad. Shaw grabbed a screwdriver with a miniature pointed head and dug it into the pick, trying to create a wider, more circular hole. Eventually satisfied, she drew an inch or two of tubing from the spool, only to struggle tying a knot due her fingers being hampered by the thick space suit gloves.

Frustrated, she pressed a button along the nape of the helmet-hinge with a little more force than necessary: there was a click and the zipper was unlocked. She unzipped to her shoulder blades, slipped only her arms out, and went back to her task. Her extra fibrous-rubber skin hung limply much like a banana peel, still covered in milk-like 'blood' when she had to plunge a hand down his thoracic cavity to grab certain severed wires.

Shaw can just hear Charlie snark:_ Why the hell are you putting that **thing** back together?_

She owed David one: he helped get them both off that god forsaken planet and, hopefully, on the right course to the Engineers' homeland. Someone had to put the puzzle pieces back together again - and that someone was her. Not to mention, she noticed he was attentive on appearances: he was meticulous in keeping himself clean, prim, and proper. She questioned whether that was part of his programming, or part of his ever developing personality.

"Tell me if you feel a pinch, okay?" Shaw asked. David could not nod yet, and answered with a raise in his brows. Flattening and aligning the edges of his lukewarm synthetic skin, she started sewing along the collarbone.

Her needle poked through. "Feel anything?"

"Dully."

It looped under and up through the nape of his neck. He flinched strongly.

"Had something there that time," Shaw remarked. The rest of the process was relatively silent; his flinches became more and more subdued as she went on. When she had to flip him over to his side to continue, the android quietly inhaled without her noticing; aside from the sweat, old blood, Engineer viscera and ship oil she was covered in, he could smell traces of the incense she would burn back in her room aboard the Prometheus. Unique and lovely.

"David," Shaw asked, breaking the silence between them. "When you were with Weyland, talking to the Engineer... what did you say to him?"

While Shaw might have been his new owner, spilling secrets was against company protocol. But, breaching it could be beneficial for both in the long run.

" 'This man is here because he does not want to die. He believes you can give him more life.' "

Her hand stopped during an upstroke. "That's all you asked? But, why did it attack..."

"I am not certain myself why it attacked."

"And you're sure it understood you?"

"If they are indeed your makers, their dialect would most likely be Proto-Indo-European. I had studied it during our two-year journey. It is the common ancestor of the European and Middle Eastern languages. If the research I was presented upon the Prometheus is correct, then the language the Engineers speak was passed down to humanity."

Shaw chewed on this revelation as she picked up where she left off on her mending. Why hadn't he told her about this information earlier? Then again, the entire crew's excitement to explore the silos was so infectious, they could think of little else.

"What made Weyland think the Engineers had the technology to grant him immortality? We have more than enough evidence to show they wanted to end lives rather, than extend them..." Shaw critiqued bitterly.

"He never offered any evidence. He explained it was his belief that the makers he longed to see would have powers or technology to help him defy death." David frowned. "I never understood why he clung on to it..."

"A person's faith is not always supposed to be understood," Shaw defended, a bit of bite in her voice, as she turned him onto his back once more, still stitching. "An explanation is not always needed."

"Then again," David continued, eyeing the silver chain of her cross that peeked out from the partially opened suit, "Seeing how the ship was named after the Titan, Sir Weyland must have viewed himself as such..."

The pieces came into place. She dropped her still-threaded 'needle' and wire spool atop of David's chest. It all made sense now.

"Because he planned to gain immortality for himself, and then pass the knowledge to the company." Shaw finished, stunned. "Then the company could have reaped massive profits on whatever immortality drug or device they concocted..."

She pulled away and raked her short hair a few times, trying to collect herself. This whole time this was one dying man's mission to ask their makers for a sample of their Fountain of Youth, under the guise of a science expedition. Shaw steadfastly refused taking the Lord's name in vain, but_ goddamn_, how bloody naive they were. All of them.

Her face fell into her hands as her elbows planted onto David's chest, berating herself for being used for someone else's wasted gain, with everyone but her and the android butchered in the end.

For now she was alone, a single soul trapped out in this frozen void. Lightyears away from the nearest human civilization; no chance of rescue or contact.

David watched her break over him in silence, analyzing this turmoil. He raised an arm with much difficulty, having it quake and shake as he moved it, but managed to place a gentle (but sloppy) hand on her exposed shoulder. She palmed her eyes, smearing tears away as she looked a him.

"We were both, if not all, fooled. Even with the confidential knowledge of his wishes, I could not predict his ulterior motive." David admitted.

Shaw inhaled a few times, with a stutter, to calm herself. "At least I know that humans aren't the only ones who can be tricked," she scoffed, as playfully as her sullen mood allowed it.

David responded with a light chuckle. Shoving her anger aside, she finished sewing him up.

"Almost there..." She tied a knot by her starting point, grabbing a sophisticated Swiss-army knife from the toolbox. Flicking out the knife set, she sliced off the excess tubing.

"Finished," she declared.

"May I see the results?" David requested.

"Hold on, hold on," Shaw assured. She darted back to one of the duffel bags, scrounged until she grabbed a square of microfiber cleaning cloth, and a small mirror she knicked from Vickers' lifeboat. She brought it above his face, propping him up with an arm.

"Pull back a bit... there." His cerulean eyes studied her handiwork. He had an expression of satisfaction. "And it won't become undone?"

"The tubing was made of a tough plastic of some sort, and I double-knotted the knot."

"Perfect."

"How long did you say it would take to be completely reconnected?"

"I initially estimated a five hour recovery period but..." He strained to raise his arms, only able to get them to 'hover,' "seeing how much progress my system is making already, it may only take half that time."

"Good." Shaw had slipped her arms back into her space suit. She licked a corner of the cleaning cloth, wiping up the dried 'blood' that crusted his mouth, neck, ears and nostrils. "Now that's out of the way," She pulled away, searching through the other duffel once more."I need to attend to personal matters, if you don't mind."

"What matters, specifically?"

_God_, he was nosy. "Sleep. I'm exhausted." That was an understatement: given the events that had played out in the past forty-eight hours, she was nearing the edge of physical and psychological collapse. Yet, it wasn't in her nature to give into the avalanche of despair without putting up a fight.

She fished out two silvery emergency space blankets, waving a vacuum-sealed one in front of his face. "Need one?"

"Yes, please."

With the Swiss-army knife, Shaw tore it open and laid it upon him, the chrome folds reflecting the lantern light. After grabbing an extra set of company-issued clothing, and a large pillow she swiped the lantern and sauntered off in the direction of the ship console chair. David noticed her limp.

She began to mumble, "I'll be at the console if you..."

"Elizabeth." David called out. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of her first name, swiveled on her heels to see him. He had managed to turn his neck and head in her wake. Her face was bathed in electric lamp's yellow light, outlining the ridges and divots of her suit and space helmet-hinge.

"I sincerely thank you for repairing me -"

"It's not a -"

David interrupted, "With all the appreciation and gratitude I am able to articulate and express."

Was that his programming speaking to her, or was he truly sincere? Was it another baiting tactic? The way he looked at her, the expression of honesty, and his tone, in which he spoke, read endearing and genuine to her. But she could never be sure: he was, under the layer of synthetic flesh, a machine with cognitive functions and emotional mimicry.

After a long pause: "... You're welcome, David."

Shaw pursued her course. David watched her electric lamp bob into the distance until it was set down. Shifting his focus to the pilot chamber ceiling, he scrutinized the the long, warped bones that served as the ship's very 'skeleton.' Strong, curved, supportive. Much like a massive ribcage.

* * *

**A/N's:** _I made David stay immobilized to recover, and not have him up and running once re-connected, to keep him in tune to how androids (as well as Space Jokeys/Engineers and Xenomorphs) in the Alien-verse tend to be biomechanical. They bleed, cry, salivate, etc. and their organs are bizarre and organic but still highly technical. You can't just throw the head back onto the body and expect it work at 100% efficiency right off the bat! _

_There are several ideas asking to be filled on an Prometheus LJ community that I'm considering integrating into the story. Stay tuned.  
_

_On a funny note: I just watched X-Men: First Class three days ago and whaddya know it, Michael Fassbender is chasing after another character by the name of Shaw. HM. HM. HMMM._


	3. Unrest

**A/N's 1:**_ I hate how this site has buzzwords or certain symbol-characters I can't use. WHY, WHAT HAVE THEY EVER DONE TO YOU?_

**A/N's 2:** _This chapter is short, but I'll explain why: it was supposed to be much longer, but it kept clashing with the other scenes I had in mind so I felt it would be better if this bit stood on its own. The next chapter will be much longer, promise._

* * *

**III: UNREST  
**

* * *

Shaw shucked off her exploration suit and slipped on an extra Weyland-issued uniform, before settling herself into the enormous, bony pilot throne. She set the brightness of the electric lamp to a dim glow and placed it down by the foot of the pilot seat, throwing over the emergency blanket as sleep consumed her.

The present and the chaos that ensued forty-eight hours earlier melded and lingered in her mind.

* * *

At first glance, David appeared to be drowsily staring at the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, he was in stand-by mode, the android's equivalent to sleeping. There was no eye movement and his torso never rose, appearing convincingly dead to any unwitting human.

_c:\David8:\processing:?\standby_mode_  
_c:\David8:\processing:\diagnostics_run  
_

_\run:\CARDIOVASCULAR:100%_  
_\run:\SKELETON:100%_  
_\run:\MUSCLE:60%\connection_recovery_ongoing_  
_\run:\NEUROLOGICAL:100%_  
_\run:\MOTOR:55.4%\repair_ongoing_

_c:\David8:\DIRECTIVE:\Weyland\Preserve_life\immortal_technology_  
_c:\STATUS:\Weyland:deceased\programmer_null_

_c:\David8:\replace...programmer:\_Shaw_ELIZABETH_  
_c:\David8:\REWRITE\accepted_

_c:\David8:\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\assist_ELIZABETH__  
_c:\David8:\REWRITE\accepted  
_  
_c:\David8:\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\_Engineer_origin_  
_c:\David8:\REWRITE\accepted_

_c\David8:\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\_Engineer_biology__  
_c:\David8:\REWRITE\accepted_

___c:\David8:\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\_Engineer_culture__  
_c:\David8:\REWRITE\accepted_

_c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED:Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded  
__c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold..._  
_DENIED:Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded_  
_c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED:Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded  
__c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED:Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded  
______c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED_

* * *

Jabbing pain of her abdominal incision woke her several times during her sleep. Not even in her dreams was she safe from its seething influence. In one, she was in the Prometheus mess hall with the crew members, in the midst of dinner. Pain erupted from her belly, interrupting the meal-time chatter, enough so to make her fall from her seat, clutching herself. ___________  
_

When she thought it was subsiding, then came the wet smack: yards and yards of purple-red, pink entrails fell from her in great pools on the tiled floor. Shaw looked up, pleading for help as she tried to scoop and bunch them back into her body.

Charlie, Janek, Ford, everyone - even Vickers - just stared her down, gawking at the gruesome scene.

In another she was in bed with Charlie, back in her personal chamber, nothing but a cluster of amber candles lighting the room in halos. It gave the voice of romance and intimacy - until the pain returned. She curled up in a desperate hope it would dissipate. A bulge puckered on her abdomen. She scrambled out of instinct to get away; maybe go back to the Med-Pod, Charlie can help her get there, but where did he go-?

A sharp cone pierced through her skin, from within. Shaw gasped, heaved, unable to scream, pain and shock engulfing her. The wound became bigger, and out birthed a strange, jet-black... thing. Its slick head was anvil-shaped and much too top-heavy for its bony, rail-thin body. It sensed, turned to her -

It gave a hiss, a deep warble, then shrieked at her, its many slender jaws popping forth with sickening crunches, human-like teeth gleaming.

* * *

_c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED:Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded  
__c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold...  
DENIED:______Weyland_priority:1\other_priority_rescinded_  


_______c:\David8\_option:run_backdoor\  
_c:\David8\DIRECTIVE_NEW:\priority_ELIZABETH_lifespan_maintain  
\run:\hold..._  
DENIED  


___________c:\David8\_option:OVERRIDE  
\run:\overwriting\hold...  


* * *

There again was Charlie in her dream, but this time he was unharmed, thank God_. _They were in the ampule chamber, minus the urns, and he was silhouetted from a burning light from behind. She sprinted towards him, her space helmet slightly rattling, maybe they can get home together in one- _______  
_

No, he was on fire. Shaw rushed to him, attempting to tear off his exploration suit with her bare hands. She could barely pry it, for it stuck to him and stretched out like melted plastic. He collapsed and the fire that swallowed him only became larger; his skin bubbled, blistered and bled, reducing his body to a charred mass, his twisted legs and arms gone, now only mere stumps.

Yet, his head was intact, and detached from his blackened, broiled body, reminiscent of David's decapitated head. Shaw picked him up: he continued to howl in agony, his jaws agape and teeth exposed. Inky veins of a dark infection crept up whatever remained of his neck, up to his ears. She cradled Charlie's head, hushing and assuring him he was fine, that they'd fix him, heal him somehow, but she knew all too well it was of no use, as he wailed on in phantom pain.

Oily, black-blood tears welled and spilled forth from his eyes, glinting off the glow of her illuminated helmet. And from his nose, his ears, then oozed from his mouth. Just like when her father... her father...

* * *

**A/N's:** _Comments, critiques and suggestions are highly sought!_


End file.
